Though I normally hoard all my favorite recipes in order to lure unsuspecting tasters into my lair, I have decided to cave to the forces of facebook peer pressure and divulge my prized chai recipe.

Silas calls this The Witch's Brew, and though a cauldron is not required to make it, get ready for some toil, toil, boil and bubble, cuz it does take a while to master the perfect cup. But oh so worth the effort. Cackles and howling are sure to erupt, magic visions and special powers, sure to ensue. (Pointy boots and striped stockings are optional, but strongly advised.)

A tip: When your partner, family, friends or neighbors catch a whiff of the brew, they'll come sauntering into your space with wide eyes and hopeful grins, their gullet a giant maw of hope. You must be prepared to protect and defend. Repeat after me: "Back off bitches. This kitchen does not read 'share and share alike'. Don't make me get my flying monkeys."

WARNING: Not all chais are created equal, and this one is designed for lustification. I shall not be responsible for the imminent addiction. When I finally market this stuff to the masses (under the auspices of World Chai Domination), I think it's name will be Witch's Brew: The Liquid Crack, and won't that go over well with the religious right? Not gonna win me any points south of the Mason/Dixon either, but a witch has gotta do what a witch has gotta do.

And right now, this witch needs to swallow some crack of her own. Now where'd I put my pointy boots...

Witch's Brew:

1/2 gal. water
3 oz. freshly grated ginger root
1/2 tsp. freshly ground cardamom
Bring to a boil · Simmer for 10 minutes

Add:
3 heaping Tbs. black tea

Bring to a boil · Steep 4-7 minutes
Strain into another pot

Add:
1/2 gal. hot boiled milk
3/4 cup sugar

Yields 16 lip-smacking cups to hoard and enjoy.

 

Lost Dot today. Little Dot. Slow, pudgy, and constantly challenged. I made multiple trips to the health food store, vet, grocery, to procure bits and bobs the Rat and Mouse Association of America told me would help Dot's digestive problems. Poor thing had chronic diarrhea, but he managed. Sweeter than sweet, he was easy to nurse, even with his problems.

 

He played this morning, posing for photos with his brother Squiggle. Then we ate, had our first taste of apple, ran around the table we like meant to race the Daytona 500, and ten minutes later, Dot was gone. Warm, belly full of milk, but no longer here.

I shake my head and wonder why the tears fall. "It's just a mouse." Yet he had become my friend. Dear, sweet, unexpected friend.

After a year of trying to rid my house of mice, cursing them all the way, now pulling out every stop to keep them alive.

Why? Because I am so irony's bitch.

And Dot, he's sailing off to The Next Place...and I'm reminded of the line from that old clapping rhyme: "And they all went to heaven in a little row boat."

Row, row, row your boat, Little Dot, and find your way safely ashore.

We lost Buddha Bellygirl last night. No idea why. She went quietly - no idea she had died until I reached for her this morning and she didn't move. Her brothers are sleeping upstairs and are fine. I think. It's all very mysterious and strange. I had no intention of having mice in my house (hence all the traps) let alone raising baby mice. But then there they were. Under the washing machine. And here I am. In my living room. Grieving.

Did I mention the irony? Sure I did, in this post. But now it's irony on crack. For today I set up a little shrine for Buddha Girl and put the feathers her mother chewed off my Cirque du Soleil scarf on her final nesting place. Her mother had intended them for a birthing nest, and now they're right there, all the precious feathers, keeping Buddhagirl warm as she passes on to wherever she's going. Wonderland? Cinderella's castle? Disney world? Seems there's lots of places that welcome and appreciate mice.

 Little blind mouse, may you find your way.

 

 

At lunch time we went for a ride in the countryside and Angi fed us in the car. It was very nice of her, since it was a blustery day and the wind would've knocked us over if we'd gone outside.

 Next we practiced rolling into mouse-ball formation. (And yes, we sleep on Alice in Wonderland sheets. What else for wannabe doremousies?)

Then we had a playdate with Tinky. Well, mostly we slept while Tinky smelled us and looked at us funny.

 Then we passed out. Once again. We've got a whole other week til our eyes open, and then the adventure really begins!

So today we had a photo shoot.

We like to call this one "Say Cheese":

 

And this one "Howl at the Moon--I mean Milk."

And this one is "Move over Susan Boyle"

This one's called "I'm aliiiivvveeee! (Frankenstein) or...Hallelujah I have teeth!"

 

And finally: "Fuck off, Mr. DeMille! I am so not ready for my close up! (bring on the milk)

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